


Five Times Rex Kissed Anakin (& one time anakin kissed him).

by kenobisgreentea



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Crack, Fluff, M/M, Maybe a little angst, a lot of dumb things, and some dumb stuff too, and stupid situations, but i need more, but literally just fluff and happy things, i just crave the relationship between these two, like they're the ultimate bros, pure fluff, sexual content in later chapters, so much crack, so this is my contribution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-25
Updated: 2016-03-16
Packaged: 2018-05-23 02:42:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6102157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kenobisgreentea/pseuds/kenobisgreentea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The galaxy must hate Rex, because it keeps putting him in uncomfortable situations.</p><p> He does get to kiss his commanding officer, though, so that's a plus.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Nightclub.

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [五次雷克斯吻了安纳金（还有一次安纳金吻了他）](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6174883) by [belindafish123](https://archiveofourown.org/users/belindafish123/pseuds/belindafish123)



> hey friends. a few quick notes:
> 
> I've only written one other piece of fanfiction before, & I deleted it cause I was too embarrassed to keep it up. So here we go again because my feelings for these two JUST WON'T STOP. 
> 
> I've only got like five chapters planned? But if I come up with more ideas, I'll add them in.
> 
> This work is unbetaed, mainly because I don't have a beta; so all mistakes are mine & mine alone. Comments/criticisms (nicely given, please)/suggestions/reviews are all welcome! Please let me know what I can do to improve as a writer/if I should keep writing!
> 
> I also have a star wars trash tumblr: kenobisgreentea.tumblr.com, so follow me & cry about star wars with me if you feel so inclined.

It always surprised Rex how dirty the lower levels of Coruscant were. After being born and raised in the sterile Kamino cloning facilities, then spending much of his life on the equally spartan Jedi cruisers, it shocked him that so many people lived in such filth. Granted, it wasn’t the worst place he’d been, but it certainly wasn’t the best.

He had been sent undercover with General Skywalker to infiltrate the rapidly-growing slavery ring on Corellia three weeks ago, and had recently managed to identify one of the leaders. Eonin Toric, a solidly-built Kiffar, was responsible for managing to capture and enslave two entire Rhodian villages from right under the Republic’s nose. Such an act was not one to be ignored by the Senate, so they had sent Rex and Skywalker to catch him. Their mission was to pose as Coruscanti buyers, conduct a business deal, then follow Toric back to where he kept the slaves. Skywalker had been slightly annoyed at the fact that it was the Senate, rather than the Council, who was sending them on this mission. In Rex's opinion, a mission was a mission. 

It was certainly an important mission, Rex had no problems acknowledging that. Still, he felt rather exposed and underprepared without his armor and dual pistols. Rather, he wore merely a rust-red tunic with gray leggings and headscarf, and he had a cheap blaster strapped to his hip. Skywalker had hidden his lightsaber under a similar blue tunic, but otherwise appeared unarmed. _At least he_ has _his lightsaber,_ Rex mused crankily.

“We’re almost there, so stay sharp.” Skywalker’s words cut into Rex’s thoughts.

“How do we know he won’t call our bluff?”

“He won’t. All we have to do is act like we want to buy slaves.”

Rex wasn’t reassured. Then again, he wasn’t reassured during most of Skywalker’s plans.

As they approached the agreed-upon meeting place, Rex noticed the General’s face growing darker and darker. He vaguely remembered someone mentioning to him that the General had been a slave himself, once. This couldn’t be easy for him.

Rex could only hope he kept his temper in check. If he blew his top, Rex probably wouldn’t live to see his beloved pistols again.

Skywalker stopped outside a seedy looking club, undulating colored lights and pounding music spilling out from the door. Rex eyed it dubiously.

“He wants to meet in here?”

Skywalker shrugged. “What better place to make an illegal deal than a club where no one will be able to hear you?”

Rex found he couldn’t argue with that logic, but he wrinkled his nose in distaste. “Let’s get this over with.”

Skywalker cast him an amused glance, then disappeared in the crush of gyrating dancers. Rex hesitated for a moment, then cast his eyes skyward with a sigh and followed the General.

His senses were immediately overloaded. He paused in the doorway for a moment, his entire body poised to bolt or fight. Flashing red and green lights silhouetted the grinding, gyrating movements that pressed in on him from all sides, making his temples throb. The air was heavy with the smell of sweat, sex, and cheap perfume, and the bone-rattling bass of the music threw his equilibrium off. Rex pushed his way through the throng, squeezing past glittering, undulating dancers of all species and getting quite a few caresses and pinches along the way, which made him clench his fists to keep from breaking someone’s nose. Finally managing to reach the far wall of the club, where several private booths were shielded from the dance floor by heavy drapes, he was shocked and not a little annoyed to find Skywalker lounging in one of the plush chairs, a tall glass of fluorescent green alcohol dangling carelessly from his fingers and his feet propped up on one of the other chairs. The Jedi grinned lazily at him, for all appearances looking intoxicated and carefree.

“You finally showed up,” Skywalker commented with a smirk. Rex scowled darkly, chose not to reply, and shoved one of Skywalker’s legs out of the way so he could sit down. “Aww, don’t be like that,” Skywalker complained. “Loosen up.”

Rex glared at him. “We’re not here to have fun,” he said sharply. “We’re here to free the slaves.”

Skywalker sighed heavily. “Ever the practical one.” He rolled his eyes.

Rex raised an eyebrow. “Someone has to be.”

The Jedi opened his mouth to respond, but his gaze caught on something over Rex’s shoulder. “There he is,” he said quietly. “Eonin Toric.”

The slaver in question slid into the seat across from them. “My friends!” he exclaimed, prompting the Rex’s other eyebrow to join its mate. “Let’s have a drink!”

Rex held out a hand, forestalling the expressive Kiffar. “We’re here for business,” he stated. “And business only.”

The slaver sighed dramatically. “Fine, fine, whatever you say.” Toric was a good-looking sort of fellow, Rex noted absently. Chocolate skin, amber eyes, long black hair twisted into a knot, and two white stripes on each of his cheekbones, denoting his clan. He wasn’t the type of person Rex had expected.

Skywalker tossed back the rest of his drink and leaned his elbows on the table. “I want the goods you sell. And I can pay.” The Jedi held the Kiffar’s eyes with an intense gaze, then abruptly sat back and grinned. “When can you bring them to me?”

Toric shrugged expressively. “How much are you willing to pay?”

Skywalker’s grin didn’t fade, although Rex noticed the corners of his eyes tightening. “Whatever it takes to get them to me in two rotations.”

The Kiffar’s smile turned sly. “That’s a lot of money, my friend. And I don’t want your Republic credits.”

Skywalker copied Toric’s previous expressive shrug. “That’s no problem of yours. Just get them to me.”

Toric inclined his head. “As you say. How many will I be transporting?”

Skywalker seemed to consider the question. “Four. Two males and two females. All in good health.”

“Twenty-eight thousand druggats.”

“Outrageous. I’ll give you twelve.”

“My friend, have a heart! Twenty-four.”

“Fifteen.”

“Agreed.” A glint appeared in the Kiffar’s eyes. “But only if you throw in a dance from you, my friend. You’re very pretty.”

For the first time, the Jedi appeared startled, but he recovered quickly. “Done.”

The two men clasped hands. Rex, who had been rather impressed with Skywalker’s negotiating up until that point, couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He grabbed Skywalker’s arm as the Jedi made to stand up. “You can’t do that, sir!”

Skywalker met his eyes fiercely. “I can, and I will.” His eyes narrowed. _Remember why we’re here,_ they seemed to say. The clone captain subsided, still unhappy, but stung into silence.

The Kiffar had followed the exchange gleefully. “Ah, a budding romance? A jealous lover, perhaps?”

Rex cast him a stormy glare, silencing the slaver but not erasing the sly grin. He had intended to scowl at Toric for the rest of the meeting, but he was distracted when Skywalker moved the table away.

Toric’s grin widened. He reached out and hooked a finger in the Jedi’s tunic. “Take this off. And the scarf and boots.”

It took all of Rex’s formidable self-control not to launch himself at Toric, fists flying, especially after he noticed Skywalker’s jaw clenching. He managed to restrain himself, but his fists clenched on his thighs as his General slowly complied, pulling off each boot, untwining his headscarf, and discarding the tunic.

Rex had always vaguely known his General was beautiful, but he had never been confronted by it until now. The dim light painted his bare torso in sharp relief, emphasizing the shifting muscles of his broad chest and hard stomach. His leggings hung uncomfortably low on his narrow hips, clinging to his lean thighs and calves. Standing there, silhouetted by the shifting light, with his hair a curly, mussed mess, Anakin had never been so stunning. Toric’s gaze had darkened hungrily, devouring Skywalker with his eyes.

Rex was deeply, profoundly uncomfortable.

If he had know this was what would have happened, he would have jabbed a finger into Skywalker’s chest, told him _absolutely not,_ and hidden in the 501st barracks, damn the consequences.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t under his bunk currently. He was here. Facing his half-naked commanding officer. Who was about to give a slaver a lap dance.

The universe was cruel.

Rex was yanked from his ~~self-pity~~ despair by the slow, languid movements of his General. Skywalker had positioned himself in such a way that both Toric and Rex could see him, and Rex couldn’t decide if he was scandalized or uncomfortably pleased. The Jedi’s eyes were closed, as if he was listening to the music with his soul rather than his ears. The music itself had shifted from the driving beats to a slower, grittier, but entirely more seductive melody. Skywalker’s body moved with the lithe grace and control that he displayed on the battlefield, except rather than deflecting blaster bolts, he was undulating to the growl of an unfamiliar instrument. His body shifted and dipped, remaining in one place but managing a surprising amount of balance.

Rex noticed with a jolt that he was staring, and wrenched his eyes away, glaring at the floor and attempting to ignore the dancing Jedi next to him.

An interminable amount of time passed, dragging by so slowly that Rex would have pulled his hair out if he had any, but finally the song ended and Skywalker’s movements ceased. Rex continued to scowl at the floor and resolutely decided to stay that way until Skywalker had dressed himself.

“Kiss him.”

Rex’s head popped up so fast he gave himself a headache. He stared at Toric, completely blindsided. The Kiffar’s lips curled in a wicked smirk. “Kiss him, pretty boy,” he repeated, gesturing to Rex.

Skywalker slowly turned to Rex, whose eyes had nearly fallen out of his head, they were so wide.

“Uhh..uh, sir? Um..I don’t think..the regulations...uhh-” Rex’s meaningless stammering was abruptly cut off as Skywalker lowered himself onto the adjacent chair. The Jedi didn’t say anything, but his eyes were pleading.

_Think of the slaves. Do it for them._

The Jedi dipped his chin slightly, once, then moved closer and closed his eyes. His lips stopped mere centimeters from Rex’s, even now giving the captain a choice.

_For the slaves._

Rex closed his own eyes and tilted his chin forward, meeting Skywalker’s lips with his own. The Jedi’s mouth was warm, his full lips plush against Rex’s thin ones. Skywalker’s hand came up and his thumb scritched gently over the line of Rex’s jaw, but the kiss remained chaste and gentle. After a long moment, the Jedi pulled away, his flushed face and red mouth mirroring Rex’s. Skywalker turned to Toric.

“Satisfied?” he asked coldly.

The slaver leered. “Absolutely. You’ll have your goods in two rotations. You can pick them up at the warehouse two kilometers north.” The Kiffar stood, winked at Rex, and vanished into the crowd.

Skywalker pulled his boots and tunic on, not meeting Rex’s eyes. The captain slid down in his seat, wishing to the Force that he had remained a simple trooper and left this captain nonsense to the others. He jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Rex, truly.” Skywalker’s voice was regretful.

Rex nodded jerkily in agreement. “Let’s never mention this again,” he managed.

A soft snort came from the Jedi. “That would be best.”


	2. Doorway.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rex is disappointed he didn't get to use his dual pistols, Skywalker has a beard, and they made out in a doorway. 
> 
> Totally normal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter 2 is up & running! huzzah for completely cliché scenarios, dumb undercover work, & awkwardness! clearly I have a thing for clichés & fluff & stuff. oh well. 
> 
> thanks for all the support this has received, it's way more than I anticipated. you guys are fabulous. as always, review/comments/questions are welcome!
> 
> as far as the next chapter, I have no clue when it'll be up. hopefully by the end of the weekend, but who knows. again, this is unbetaed so apologies for any mistakes!

If Rex were a complaining man, he’d definitely be complaining about this mission. 

The Senate had been so pleased with the capture of slaver Eonin Toric that they had immediately sent him and the General back out on another undercover mission, this time to catch an informant for the Separatists. The Jedi Council had been furious with the “wasting,” as they called it, of a Jedi at such an important time, especially to catch a mere informant. The Senate couldn’t be convinced to release Skywalker from the mission, though, claiming that the information that had been relayed to the Separatists had caused multiple major battles, which meant that the informant was someone with high security clearance. 

And so, Rex had been deployed once again with General Skywalker to comb the Coruscant underworld. 

He hadn’t even gotten the chance to say hello to his dual pistols. 

That was definitely the worst part, though Rex would be lying if he said there wasn’t an uncomfortable, palpable tension between him and his General. Though they both tried to pretend it hadn’t happened, the kiss Skywalker had given him in order to seal the deal with Toric wasn’t something that was easily forgotten. Especially since it had dredged up strange, unwelcome feelings in Rex that he vaguely recognized but wasn’t sure how to name or deal with. 

They were soldiers, though, and so Rex had buried those feelings deep in his mind where he could be sure they wouldn’t surface, for hopefully ever. 

Rex snapped his mind back to the present just before he rammed into Skywalker. Jerking to a stop with his nose half an inch away from the Jedi’s broad back, Rex noted that they had ended up in one of the worst districts on level 1321. 

The level itself was bad enough, rife with crime and corruption, rarely seeing the light of day. But this particular district, 1321-08, was particularly nasty. The narrow streets were cramped with structures that appeared to have been built on top of each other, creating towering walls. The dim greenish light reminded Rex of the noxious atmosphere of Nal Hutta, and the garbage and waste that coated the streets equally reminiscent. Most of the buildings on ground level were clubs that vomited a mix of screaming, techno music, and swearing, while the higher structures appeared to be residential, with dark windows, crumbling frames, and the sporadic glint of glassy eyes. The occasional pleasure club dotted the towering structures, recognizable by the hazy red incense and purple light that emanated from the windows, as well as the scantily-clad sentients that leaned over the railings of the wobbly balconies. 

It was, as a whole, unpleasant and revolting. Frankly, Rex would rather be anywhere else.

Stepping around Skywalker, he gave the street a cursory glance and turned to the Jedi. “Remind me where we’re here, exactly. We’re looking for a high-level informant, right? Why the hell would he be here, instead of in a cushy penthouse?” Rex couldn’t be bothered to care about his accusatory tone. 

“His ex-wife told us that he frequents the pleasure clubs on this street,” Skywalker replied, scratching the stubble that had grown out during their mission to capture Toric. To Rex’s perverse amusement, the Jedi sounded just as cranky as he did. 

Rex dimly remembered hearing the informant’s ex-wife mentioning something along those lines, but he had been too busy fidgeting under the woman’s lascivious gaze. The short beard he had developed over the course of the previous mission had grown out in a odd shade of light brown, but it had served to disguise his face. That, combined with his bleached blond hair, had meant that no one had recognized him as a soldier of the GAR, but it had also apparently served to make him the object of the ex-wife’s attention. 

Skywalker had, of course, taken endless pleasure in Rex’s discomfort. 

The bastard. 

“I suppose that means that we’ll be going into those clubs, then,” Rex said resignedly. 

“No, I’d rather not. We’ll wait for him to come out, then follow him until he reached the meeting spot.”

Rex nodded, relieved. After the nightclub debacle with Toric, his dislike for nightlife had intensified. 

His relief was short-lived, though. “How will we know who he is?” 

Skywalker’s answer, per usual, wasn’t reassuring in the slightest. “The Force will guide us.” 

Rex bit back a sharp retort. He might not completely trust the Force, but he trusted his General. That would have to be good enough. 

After several minutes of waiting, a hand landed on Rex’s shoulder. 

“There he is,” Skywalker said quietly into his ear. “Let’s go.” 

The man Skywalker had focused on was a human male of average height and build with blond hair, wearing a loose gray robe over a navy tunic. Overall, a rather generic sort of specimen, if Rex were to be honest. 

“Do you recognize him?”

Skywalker shook his head. “Nope.” With that, the Jedi and the captain moved carefully down the street, mingling with the locals and keeping a careful distance from their target. 

He wasn’t being very careful, Rex noted. The man hadn’t even looked behind him once. Instead, he was meandering down the winding streets at a leisurely pace, flicking through files on his small datapad. He looked perfectly at ease. Rex was almost offended. 

Without warning, their target paused at a ramshackle cafe stand, gestured for a glass of deep red alcohol, and casually turned to scan the street behind him. 

The casualness was an act, Rex realized belatedly, and the man’s eyes focused in on the two of them. When the man’s eyes narrowed and his hand drifted into his robe, no doubt to grab a hidden blaster, Rex made a split-second decision. 

He grabbed Skywalker’s arm, spun him around, and shoved him up in the doorway of the closest building. He met Skywalker’s wide eyes and allowed himself a moment of resignation, then stretched up on his toes. “Just go with it,” he whispered, then pressed his mouth against the confused Jedi’s. Skywalker stiffened immediately, but Rex twisted a firm hand on the neck of his tunic, keeping the Jedi’s mouth against his own. Rex cast a sideways glance out of the corner of his slitted eyes toward their target, and swore silently when the man hadn’t moved his hand away from the blaster. With a litany of increasingly foul expletives running continuously through his brain, Rex bit gently at Skywalker’s lower lip, prompting a surprised noise from the Jedi, and licked inside the taller man’s mouth. 

Skywalker finally seemed to understand after a surreptitious glance at their target. To Rex’s great chagrin and unending embarrassment, Skywalker responded with a surprising amount of enthusiasm, sliding his tongue along Rex’s and running it against the roof of the captain’s mouth. The Jedi’s hands settled on Rex’s hips, tugging him closer until their chests brushed. 

Rex’s mind was racing and he was sure that quite a few neural connections had short-circuited, but the only thing he could distinguish with any clarity was the thought that the gentle scrape of Skywalker’s stubble on his cheeks and lips was incredibly, blindingly, uncomfortably arousing. 

When a desperate glance revealed that their target had started heading down the street again, Rex stumbled back from Skywalker and stared at the Jedi uncertainly. Skywalker’s lips were glossy red and swollen, his eyes wide. Rex opened his mouth to apologize, but all that came out was, “He’s getting away so we should probably go after him?”

Skywalker nodded jerkily and after a moment of hesitation, they both set off down the street again, each avoiding the eyes of the other. 

 

***

 

It certainly could have been worse, Rex reflected. Sure, he kissed his commanding officer _again—_ although “made out” might be a better term—and sure, he spent the rest of the night being awkwardly aroused, but the informant had been captured and identified as the aide to one of the Senators from Ganthel, so the mission had been fulfilled. 

He might never be able to look into Skywalker’s face again, though. 

As if hearing his thoughts, the Jedi in question stopped Rex in the Senate hallway. 

“Rex, I just wanted to say that your quick thinking saved our skins,” Skywalker said cheerfully. “Good work.” There was no trace of reproach or anger in his eyes. 

Rex blinked, surprised and relieved. “Of course, sir.” 

Skywalker nodded once, startled Rex with a wink, then turned and strode off down the corridor. 

Nonplussed, Rex stared after the Jedi’s retreating back, then resolved to bury his odd arousal next to the uncomfortable feelings he had stuffed deep inside his brain. Nodding sharply to himself, he placed his helmet back on his head and followed his General. 


	3. Repair Room.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was a terrible campaign, Anakin hides with droids, and Rex isn't great at comforting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> back at in again with the flufffffff. actually, it's a little more angsty this time? it's not my favorite chapter, as I don't think I did it justice, but it's important. 
> 
> as always, I don't have a beta, so all mistakes are mine!

Rex never thought he’d say it, but he was sick of being in armor.

The 501st and General Skywalker had just completed a two month campaign on the Outer Rim planet of Bordal and Rex was more than ready to kiss the Force-forsaken planet goodbye. The campaign was supposed to be a short one, a month at the most. They had been on the verge of wrapping up the insurrection against the Republic when Separatist reinforcements had blown through the GAR’s blockade and sent the entire campaign into a tailspin. It was only through the rescue by General Unduli that the 501st hadn’t been completely wiped out. Despite her valiant efforts to reach Bordal, General Unduli had not been able to arrive for a week, during which time many brothers had been lost. The 501st was nowhere near decimated, but Rex didn’t take any amount of deaths lightly. 

Of course, after the official victory, there were days of clean up and restoration that needed to be done, as well as resupplying the local villages, gathering up bodies, and hunting down the remaining droids. 

And after _that,_ hours upon hours of meetings and reports and holo-calls to Coruscant. 

Rex hadn’t slept more than four hours in the past week. 

After they were given the all-clear to come back to Coruscant and entered hyperspace, Rex made a beeline for the crew quarters to sleep for three days. But as he hurried down the corridors of the ship, intent on his bed, he was stopped by one of the bridge officers.

“Excuse me, Captain.”

Rex paused and raised an eyebrow irritably, noting the junior officer badge pinned to the other man’s uniform. He could afford to be a little rude. “Sir?”

“I have a message for General Skywalker, but I can’t find him. Have you seen him?”

Rex opened his mouth instinctively, but shut it when no words came. As a matter of fact, he hadn’t seen the General in a while. Not since yesterday, maybe. 

Odd. 

“I haven’t seen him, sir.” 

The bridge officer frowned. “Thank you anyway, Captain.”

Rex nodded briefly and strode off, but instead of going to his own quarters, he headed towards the General’s.

When his knock on the door received no reply, he scrunched his brows together in puzzlement. If he wasn’t on the bridge, and he wasn’t in his quarters, where else would he be? He was the General and a Jedi, after all. He wasn’t the sort of General to leave everything to others, either. 

Rex blamed his sleep-deprived brain for the amount of time it took for him to reach the obvious answer. If there were three things that hadn’t changed even a little about Skywalker from their first meeting, it would be his ego, his recklessness, and his love for droids. 

 

***

 

Rex keyed open the door to the droid repair room quietly. As soon as he stepped inside, his feet were swarmed by dozens of mouse droids, all beeping excitedly. Four astromech droids looked to be engaged in an intense argument, judging by the way they jabbed at each other with their various probes. Rex recognized a few protocol droids, but the other dozen droids were completely foreign to him. R2-D2, Skywalker’s astromech, was beeping constantly at his master, who sat cross-legged on the floor with a mouse droid in one hand and a screwdriver in the other. 

“Almost got it, little guy,” the Jedi muttered as he poked around in the droid’s innards with his tool. “Ha!” 

A bolt the size of the tip of Rex’s little finger flew out of the droid and rolled into a corner. “How did that get in there? Never mind, I don’t want to know.” Skywalker set the droid down gently and it zipped around in circles a few times, then joined its brethren at Rex’s feet. 

Rex couldn’t help a mildly exasperated smile as he picked his way through the droids and sat down next to the Jedi. “Have you been here since yesterday, sir?” he asked. 

Skywalker wouldn’t meet his eyes. “The droids needed repairs, but no one else was going to do it.”

By this point in their partnership, Rex knew his Jedi well enough to see past his words. “It wasn’t your fault that the campaign went the way it did.”

The other man kept his eyes on the screwdriver he was turning over in his hands. “I’m their General. I should be able to protect them.”

Rex shook his head at his General’s blindness. “These men would follow you to the grave, sir. They don’t blame you for the losses. It’s part of being a soldier.”

Skywalker finally turned to meet Rex’s eyes, and the pain there startled the captain. “I don’t want to be responsible for their lives,” he whispered. “I don’t want them to die on my watch.”

Several silent moments went by as Rex tried to process that comment. Here was a Jedi Knight, General of the Grand Army of the Republic and veteran of hundreds of battles, saying that he didn’t want the responsibility of leadership.

Rex was no stranger to the battlefield. He was intimately familiar with the screams and the blood and the horrors of battle. Often, he wished he were elsewhere. Never once, though, had he wished that his men were under the command of another Jedi. General Skywalker was _their_ general, and a damn good one. 

Brown eyes met blue ones as Rex pinned his General with a fierce gaze. “You’re our General. You have a responsibility to these men to lead and protect them, and you’re doing a damn fine job of it. Without you, many more lives would have been lost, both on this campaign and on every other battlefield.”

Skywalker scrunched his eyebrows together for a moment, then his lips curled up in a wan smile as he dipped his chin in a small nod, but his eyes betrayed his uncertainty. 

Rex couldn’t help himself as he gently placed a hand on the back of the Jedi’s neck, pulling Skywalker’s face forward and kissing him softly on his forehead. He let his lips linger there for a long moment, his eyes closed, before he pulled back and pressed an even softer kiss against Skywalker’s plush mouth. A mere brush of lips, nothing more, but Rex could feel the Jedi melt against him, pressing their foreheads together. 

The Jedi and the clone captain remained like that for a long moment, eyes closed, noses nearly brushing, breathing in the sensation of someone else’s nearness. Rex’s mind was flooded with the strange emotions he had almost forgotten about, but despite that feeling of drowning, he was oddly at total peace. 

For a soldier, there was nothing more reassuring than having someone who understood everything stand beside you, and Rex was determined to be beside his General until the end of the line.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter will be stupid and funny, I promise.


	4. Village.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first off, I am so sorry for this chapter. I had a field day with it. 
> 
> second, I came up with another idea. so I changed the title to reflect that. sorrynotsorry. 
> 
> third, all mistakes are mine, as always!

Rex paused in the middle of loading debris onto a primitive wagon and placed his hands on the small of his back, stretching hugely. The morning sun appeared from behind one of the huge, fluffy clouds that blanketed the sky and Rex closed his eyes, basking in the peace that finally blanketed the rural planet. 

It had been two weeks to the day that General Skywalker and the 501st had set foot on the little backwater planet of Atzerri. To Rex’s great pleasure, the campaign to eliminate the Separatist forces from the planet had gone swiftly and smoothly. They had barely lost any men, and the General hadn’t even needed to pull out any hare-brained ideas, which constituted a solid win in Rex’s mind. 

The reconstruction efforts were running smoothly as well. They had almost finished disposing of the battle debris—Rex had the last load—and the resupply ships had arrived promptly, for once. 

All in all, Rex could say he’d had a good week. 

His good feeling faded when a trooper came sprinting across the field toward him. Bracing himself for bad news, he turned to face the soldier. 

“What is it, Dozer?”

“You’re needed in the village longhouse, Captain.”

Rex raised his eyebrows at the lack of explanation. “For what reason?”

Dozer hesitated, then shrugged. “I’m not actually sure.”

With a sigh, Rex nodded. “You finish up here.”

“Yes, sir!”

Moving quickly, Rex made his way back toward the village. Despite the uncertainty lingering over him, he couldn’t help but smile at the bustle of activity that surrounded the small village. He liked the waist-high inhabitants of the village, even if he could barely understand their heavily-accented Basic. 

He was greeted by Skywalker as soon as he reached the door to the village longhouse. Instantly suspicious at the look on the Jedi’s face, he narrowed his eyes. “What’s going on?”

Skywalker pressed his lips together. “You’ll see.” With that cryptic response, he ducked inside the longhouse. Rex scowled, but followed.

The interior of the longhouse was surprisingly bright, sunlight streaming in from the circular holes cut into the roof. A purple fire crackled at one end of the building, and several slim cushions formed a semi-circle around it. Earth-toned tapestries covered the walls and floor, mind-boggling in their complexity. 

Rex was mildly surprised at the obvious comfort of such a primitive looking structure.

Skywalker made his way toward the fire, seating himself gracefully on one of the cushions. Rex followed, lowering himself next to Skywalker and across from the village chief, whom Rex had, to his chagrin, not noticed.

The Jedi respectfully inclined his head to the purple striped being. “Chief Un’ua’di.”

The Chief mimicked the gestured. “Master Jedi.” His Basic was much clearer than that of the other villagers, but his accent gave his words a sing-song cadence. 

Rex narrowed his eyes, puzzled as to his purpose at this meeting, until the Chief spoke again. 

“I take it this is your spouse?”

It was only through intense self-control that Rex managed to keep a straight face. 

“It is.” Skywalker’s response tested Rex’s strength of will, but his impassive mask remained in place. The Jedi turned to Rex with a smile, but his eyes were both apologetic and pleading. “In order for the Azterri to join the Republic, a married couple must make the proposal.”

Ah. Rex distantly recalled the briefing he had been assigned about Azterri customs. The primitive culture was dominated by marriage, as only someone who was wed was qualified to hold any position of power. And, as it seemed, only a married person could present the proposal to join with the Republic. 

“If I may, Chief Un’ua’di, why aren’t you presenting this proposal?” Rex kept his voice slow and even. 

“I am not of the Republic. You and your spouse are, so you must be the ones to present it.”

Rex mentally sighed, but nodded anyway. “Of course.”

The Chief’s face split in a wide grin. “Excellent. You will present the proposal tomorrow at midday.” He stopped and glanced between Rex and the Jedi. “It was a long campaign. You must be longing for each other.” Rex could feel his face heating, but the Chief continued. “I am pleased to see two people with a devotion to their cause but an intense passion for each other.” Rex’s fingers curled on his knee, white-knuckled. “I see the way you look at each other. You—“ he pointed at Skywalker. “You look at him with such desperation and love. And you-“ he waved at Rex. “You look at him with such devotion, such adoration! It pleases me greatly.”

The Chief settled back on his cushion with a pleased smile. Rex kept his eyes firmly on the ground, his whole face burning, and he could sense Skywalker doing the same.   

After an awkward pause, the Chief squinted impatiently at them. “What are you waiting for? Kiss! Kiss!”

Rex closed his eyes, wishing that a Separatist bomber would appear at that very moment. 

A fruitless wish, as they had destroyed all the bombers a few days earlier. 

He clenched his jaw as he felt Skywalker’s fingers hesitantly brushing his cheek. He let the Jedi turn his face toward him and risked a glance. The General’s face was burning bright red in a reflection of Rex’s own, but his expression was sheepish and uncertain, and there was something hiding in his eye that Rex couldn’t identify. Before he could ponder it further, Skywalker’s lips curled in a wry grin. 

“We do keep finding ourselves in this position, don’t we?” the Jedi remarked softly. 

Rex couldn’t help a quiet snort. “You keep putting us here,” he returned. 

Skywalker grinned, a genuine smile that lit up his whole face. “Guilty.” 

With that, he slid his hand down to curl around the back of Rex’s neck, tilting his face upward. Skywalker looked at at him with such a fond expression that Rex’s control slipped. With a quiet, needy noise that he would eternally deny making, he stretched upward, pressing his lips against Skywalker’s. The Jedi immediately tilted his head and opened his mouth, deepening the kiss. Rex could feel Skywalker smiling as the Jedi ran his tongue against the seam of Rex’s lips, prompting an embarrassing sound from the captain. When Rex’s hand stole upward and slid into Skywalker’s hair, the Jedi choked out a moan and slid his tongue into Rex’s mouth, sliding it against the captain’s. Rex inhaled sharply through his nose, fisting his hand in Skywalker’s mess of curls.

All the feelings that Rex had buried deep were surging into recollection, making the captain’s head spin. Skywalker’s lips felt so good, so _right_ against his own that Rex didn’t know how he had ever lived without them. His whole body tingled and he could feel his hands shaking, but he had never been so exhilarated in all his life. No amount of battle adrenaline could even begin to compare to this. 

Skywalker placed a hand on Rex’s chest, beginning to push him down, but was interrupted by the Chief’s delighted cackle. The Jedi pulled back immediately and Rex snapped back to reality. 

The electric feeling from a few moments ago was gone, leaving his body burning with embarrassment and guilty arousal, and he was fairly certain his face mirrored Skywalker’s stunned expression. 

The Chief was rocking back and forth on his cushion, clapping his small hands. “Yes, yes! Such passion!” He trailed off into more chortling. It was a few moments before he could recover. “I will leave you to it,” he said as he stood and trotted out the door. 

An awkward silence cloaked the longhouse. The Jedi and the captain wouldn’t meet each other’s eyes, and Rex didn’t know how to break the silence. 

Finally, Skywalker spoke. “Rex, I—“ he broke off as his commlink beeped. Skywalker eyed it with distaste. “I’m sorry, Rex. I need to take this.”

Rex managed a stiff nod as the Jedi stood. He sensed Skywalker pause at the door to the longhouse, but Rex didn’t look at him, and the other man disappeared outside. 

As soon as Skywalker had left, Rex dropped his face into his hands. He considered venting his feelings, he couldn’t find anything in his vast repertoire of curse words that summed up his feelings, so he settled for a long groan. 

What was he going to do? He didn’t even know what he felt for the Jedi, but apparently he was obvious. Equally as apparent was the fact that these feelings made kissing Skywalker feel like coming home, like everything he had ever wanted. But Skywalker was his commanding officer, for Sith’s sake, and a Jedi to boot. 

Rex squirmed uncomfortably, feeling like a bandage had been ripped off and a raw wound that had gone previously unnoticed was now exposed. He wasn’t sure how to even begin processing these feelings. 

He did know, though, was that this was going to make working with Skywalker much, much harder. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again, apologies. too much fun was had.


	5. Hospital.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin gets angry and stupid, Rex makes a decision, and white looks weird on everyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this chapter took a little longer; I just started spring break & have spent the last few days doing absolutely nothing. it's been blissful. 
> 
> anyway! enjoy this slightly angsty but happy (& SO CLICHE OMG) chapter & get excited for the last part!
> 
> per normal, this part is unbetaed so all mistakes are mine.

Rex didn’t know what to do with himself. For once, there were no battles to fight, no droids to blast, and no mission reports to file. No running for his life, no fighters circling in space, no screams of fallen brothers. 

It was strange, and rather uncomfortable. 

A few days ago, the 501st had been transferred to Coruscant for a week’s leave while General Skywalker attended matters in the Senate. Normally, when a General had other duties, the clones under their command were sent to another front to continue fighting, but apparently General Skywalker had petitioned for his troops to be granted a rest—and it was incredibly difficult to say no to him. Only Obi-Wan managed it on the regular, and that was probably because he had been his Master. 

So Rex found himself perched on one of the supply crates littering the leave base, cleaning his already-spotless pistols out of sheer boredom. The rest of the 501st were equally as at a loss. Most of them whiled away the time either sleeping or working out during the day and hitting up the clone bar 79s in the evening. Rex wasn’t one for drinking, so he spent much of his time reading or catching up on the news. General Skywalker hadn’t been seen much, although he did make a point of stopping by the base at least once during the day. 

Rex finished cleaning his weapons and stowed them at his hip. He had refused, along with most of the 501st, to give up his armor in exchange for civvies. They might be on leave, but no one survived long under General Skywalker’s command for long without developing an intense sense of wariness and readiness for sudden attacks. 

Rex turned at the sound of his name. Skywalker strode up to him, his face hard. Not a rote visit, then. 

“Rex, pick a squad and come with me,” Skywalker rapped out his orders with uncharacteristic sharpness. 

Taken slightly aback, Rex recovered quickly. “Octagon squad, with me,” he called.

The squad in question—comprised of Kitso, Fisher, Ram, Hook, and Mack—immediately stopped wrestling and stepped forward, grabbing their weapons. Skywalker turned and made a beeline for the slim speeder idling a few meters away. Still puzzled but trusting his General, Rex followed, trailed by the other troopers. 

Once Rex had seated himself in the co-pilot’s seat and the speeder was zipping into the Coruscanti traffic, he cast a cautious glance at the Jedi. “What’s our mission, sir?”

Skywalker kept his eyes forward. “An assassination attempt was made on General Kenobi while he was making a report to the Council. We’re going after the culprit.”

Ah. That explained the thundercloud that was Skywalker’s expression. Rex refrained from asking any other questions. Knowing his General’s legendary temper, Rex assumed that any further conversation would result in an outburst of the worst kind. Especially since it was General Kenobi who had been targeted. 

He pitied the poor sod they were now chasing. One didn’t make an attempt on the life of General Skywalker’s former Master without receiving full payback in the form of a furious former Padawan. 

After several minutes of reckless flying, even by Skywalker’s standards, the speeder pulled to an abrupt stop at a rickety platform. Judging by the lack of people and the general disrepair of the platform, they were on the the edge of the Coruscanti underworld. 

Skywalker leaped out of the speeder and immediately set off, leaving Rex and the other troopers scrambling to follow him. The Jedi set a bruising pace, weaving in and out of side streets and alleys with a singular focus. Rex wasn’t sure how he knew where to go, but General Skywalker hadn’t ever failed them. 

Rex lost track of how long they hurried after the General. Even though he was an experienced military captain, the rate at which they traversed the streets began to blur the mental map he had created of their surroundings. 

Skywalker finally stopped in a docking yard piled high with shipping crates. “He’s in here somewhere,” the Jedi whispered harshly. “Find him.”

With a sharp salute, Rex and the others fanned out, moving quietly. They had been searching for several minutes, circling the yard in ever-growing spirals, when Rex heard a blaster shot. Immediately, he took off running toward the sound, followed by Mack. At the end of one of the rows of containers, he could see Skywalker deflecting blaster shots with his lightsaber. Rex doubled his speed. He skidded to a stop beside the Jedi and fired his pistols at the person perched on one of the tall crates. The rest of the Octagon squad caught up a moment later, adding their blasters to the fray. Unfortunately, as soon as the squad joined Rex and Skywalker, the person dropped to the ground and took off running. Skywalker swore and sprinted after her. 

“Troopers, fan out,” Rex barked as he ran after the Jedi. The other men each took a separate path, hoping to lessen the chances of escape for their quarry. 

In all honesty, Rex was a little worried for his General. Skywalker hadn’t been himself for the whole search. He was bubbling with white-hot anger, and Rex knew that anger caused mistakes—even for a Jedi. 

With that uncomfortable thought in mind, the captain pushed his body faster down the path, chasing after his Jedi. 

Rex saw it coming from 50 meters away. 

As they had progressed deeper into the shipping yard, cranes dangling platforms piled high with heavy cargo had started to regularly dot the path. As Skywalker ran under one of the platforms loaded with huge duracrete blocks, the fleeing assassin turned and fired his blaster at the thick cords that connected the platform to the crane. Most of the shots went wide, but two found their mark. One of the cords snapped and the platform sagged to one side, the duracrete blocks sliding off and tumbling toward the ground. 

Time seemed to slow to a crawl as Rex watched as the blocks slammed to the ground, burying Skywalker and raising a massive cloud of duracrete dust. For a moment, Rex wasn’t worried. Surely the assassin couldn’t have gotten the drop on a Jedi. Skywalker was bound to appear within moments, lifting the blocks with the Force and resuming his chase. 

When he didn’t appear after several long moments, an icy claw gripped Rex’s heart, spreading its numbing chill through his whole body. He couldn’t be dead. That was impossible. He’s the Hero with No Fear, the champion of the war. He couldn’t have been killed by a bunch of building blocks. 

Rex skidded to a stop before the pile of blocks and stared at it helplessly. The blocks were taller and wider than he was, and probably weighed as much as an AT-RT walker. After a moment of bone-crushing terror, he shoved his emotions aside and activated his commlink. “This is Captain Rex of the 501st, I need an evac team capable of moving duracrete and a med team at the shipping yard on Level 867, coordinates were just transferred.”

It was several agonizing minutes before the evac team joined Rex and the Octagon squad at the shipping yard, equipped with massive walkers and cranes. Rex waited anxiously with the medical team, trying to control his wild emotions. When most of the blocks had been removed, Rex pushed past the medics and climbed over the remaining blocks, dropping to his knees at Skywalker’s body. He was still breathing, Rex noted with a wave of relief that threatened to knock him over. He allowed himself to be gently shoved aside by the medics and watched as Skywalker’s limp form was air-lifted onto one of the ships.

 

***

 

Several hours later, Rex had finally convinced the medics to let him see Skywalker. After all, General Kenobi had just come out so _clearly_ he was stable enough that Rex could go in for a few minutes before he was placed in a bacta tank . 

He walked inside the small room hesitantly, then had to steady himself on the doorframe. Skywalker looked so small lying on the hospital bed, stripped of his black Jedi tunics and connected to multiple beeping machines. Rex sat down gingerly on the side of the bed, holding back his sorrow at seeing his General so wounded through sheer force of will. He threaded his fingers through the limp hand that rested on top of the white sheet, being careful not to jostle the General’s broken collarbone and ribs. Miraculously, those were the worst of Skywalker’s injuries, but it wasn’t much of a comfort. 

 _You should have seen it coming_ , Rex berated himself savagely. _You should warned him_. _What good is a captain if he can’t protect his General?_

He was yanked from his black thoughts by the pressure of a hand squeezing his. He turned wide eyes on Skywalker, shocked to see the Jedi regarding him with a fond, if tired, expression. “Stop blaming yourself,” Skywalker rasped. “I was stupid and reckless.”

Rex shook his head. “I should have seen it coming.”

Skywalker’s laugh was a dry wheeze. “Nobody can predict the future.” His eyes drooped and he squeezed Rex’s fingers again. “Not even you.”

The Jedi drifted back into unconsciousness and Rex couldn’t help the watery smile that curved his lips. 

 

***

 

The next time Rex saw his Jedi, Skywalker was sitting up in on of the beds in the Jedi Temple medical bay, flicking through a datapad. The multiple sessions in a bacta tank had apparently healed most of the injuries, although bandages still wrapped around the Jedi’s shoulder and torso, visible through the gaping neckline of the tunic he wore. 

It was odd to see his General dressed in white, Rex noted. It made him seem younger. 

Skywalker grinned when Rex stepped through the door. Rex returned it readily, pleased to see the Jedi looking so well. When he voiced as much, Skywalker waved a hand unconcernedly. “Obi-Wan caught the assassin, found out she was working for Ventress, and chucked her in jail. It’s been a good day.” 

“I’m glad to hear it, sir,” Rex responded. 

Skywalker patted the bed. “Come sit.”

Rex hesitated for a split second, then obliged, sitting carefully on the edge of the bed. 

“I never thanked you for saving my life,” Skywalker said seriously, meeting Rex’s eyes. 

The captain shook his head. “It’s my duty.”

“I hope it’s not only because of that.” Rex couldn’t decipher the odd note in the Jedi’s voice, but it made his heart pound. He twisted his fingers together and stared at them intently, unsure of how to proceed.

“No,” he said finally, the terror of voicing his long-buried feelings tempered by the sheer relief that his General was alive. “Not just that.” He dragged his eyes up to meet Skywalker’s and almost fell off the bed at the warmth and affection directed at him. 

Skywalker hid a wince as his injuries twinged as he reached up to pull Rex’s head forward, pressing their foreheads together. “Good,” he said softly. 

Rex pushed aside the voice in his mind that screamed at him about regulations and betrayal of his training, the pure fear he felt at putting actions to the feelings he had striven so hard to hide, the shame he felt at being a clone and falling for a Jedi. Instead, he braced one arm against the bed and leaned down to kiss his General. 

Skywalker made a soft, pleased noise and grinned against Rex’s mouth, curling his hand around the captain’s neck gently. Rex couldn’t help smiling in return, drawing another happy sound from the Jedi. 

They stayed like that for a while, softly exchanging kisses and smiles while carefully listening for anyone’s approach. 

When they finally broke apart, Rex met Skywalker’s gaze intently. “Where do we go from here?” he asked quietly. “You’re a Jedi, and I’m….I’m a clone. You have your Code and I have my regulations.”

Skywalker’s lips curled up. “And?”

With that smile and single word, Rex recognized what Skywalker was saying without words, the depth of feeling that stretched between them. 

He grinned back, lacing his fingers with his Jedi’s, his heart singing.


	6. Bed.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The war ends and Rex finds himself in Anakin's bed, not two minutes later. 
> 
> He thought Jedi were supposed to be patient.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *studiously ignores canon SO HARD WOW
> 
> note the rating change WINK WINK 
> 
> in other news, a thousand apologies for this being so late! I've been sick for days & I just didn't have the energy to write this. also, this hasn't been betaed (or even edited lolz) so apologies for mistakes & stuff. I'll come back & do a read through later. 
> 
> also, THANK YOU for sticking with me through this dumb little fic & my penchant for clichés & fandom tropes. the response to this little rarepair fic has been incredible & it blows me away that people would actually want to read my ramblings. so thank you a thousand times! 
> 
> disclaimer though, I've never written anything of the sort & I almost died of embarrassment writing this, so sorry for my lack of skills in writing smut. 
> 
> NOW GO FORTH & ENJOY ALL THE FLUFF MY FRIENDS. so much cheese ahead.

Silence. 

Everything was deathly silent. Rex had never experienced such all-encompassing quiet.

Dozens of brothers of the 501st stood in shock, weapons dangling from loose-fingered hand and eyes widening to the size of saucers. 

The war was over.

Chancellor Palpatine had been revealed as a Sith, apparently thanks to the most intense meditation session on record and an enormous helping of sheer, dumb luck on the part of Obi-Wan. The Jedi Council had marshaled together and confronted the Chancellor, succeeding in defeating the Sith after an intense battle that left part of the Senate district in ruins. Count Dooku and the Separatists had conceded defeat soon after. 

Rex didn’t know what to think. He didn’t know what to do. 

Silence reigned for several long minutes, then a choked-off sob shattered the fog. Suddenly the air was filled with the sound of brothers cheering, screaming, and weeping. Helmets were thrown in the air and blasters were dropped and kicked to the side as troopers grabbed each other by the faces and yelled in sheer excitement. 

A massive grin gradually spread across Rex’s face as he turned in a slow circle, taking in the sight of his brothers celebrating. 

Tup’s head was tucked under Five’s chin as the younger brother sobbed against the ARC trooper’s chest, Echo’s arms wrapped around Five’s waist from behind. Hardcase had seized Dogma by the shoulders and was spinning him around, and the notoriously kill-joy brother was actually laughing. Appo had his arms around Mack and Dozer and the three of them were yelling at each other at the top of their lungs. Although he didn’t think it was possible, Rex’s grin grew even larger as he saw Jesse fling himself into Kix’s arms and plant a sloppy kiss on the medic’s willing mouth. 

God, but he never thought he’d see this moment.

(or jesse and kix finally making out)

The clone captain was suddenly aware of the uncomfortable feeling that someone was staring at him, and he turned around to meet Skywalker’s burning gaze. 

Rex swallowed hard. He hadn’t had time to capitalize on the conversation in the medical bay so long ago, but the Jedi had never been far from his mind. 

Now, apparently, the Jedi had had enough and Rex couldn’t decide between exhilaration and terror. 

When Rex didn’t move, paralyzed with roiling emotions, Skywalker raised one eyebrow as a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. The Jedi turned and started down the corridor to his quarters, casting a sly backward glance at the clone captain. 

Rex hesitated, then made up his mind and hurried after his Jedi, arousal and fear and excitement churning his insides into a swirling mess. 

Anakin pounced as soon as the door slid shut behind Rex. His mouth landed on the captain’s, open and wet and needy. Rex instinctively parted his lips, allowing the Jedi’s tongue to slid against his own. Anakin’s hands gripped Rex’s face desperately, his hands finding the natural handholds of cheekbone and jawline. 

Rex’s hands landed on Anakin’s narrow hips, yanking the other man flush against him. He was rewarded with a heartfelt moan from the Jedi, who immediately shoved the captain up against the wall. Rex’s head hit the wall with a crack, but the pain went ignored as Anakin’s teeth closed on his neck. Tilting his head to allow the Jedi more access, Rex shut his eyes as his breath left him in a shaky rush. When Anakin’s lips left his neck, Rex made a small noise of displeasure, opening his eyes to scowl at the Jedi. 

“Off, off, off,” Anakin chanted as his hands tugged at the captain’s armor. Rex was floored for a moment as his brain struggled to wrap around the fact that Anakin Skywalker, hero of the war, wanted _him._

He was jerked back to the present by Anakin pulling hard at the chest plate. “OFF.”

Rex met his eyes and grinned, then set to work unclasping the plates as fast as he could. As he shucked off his bracers, he raised an eyebrow at the Jedi. “If you don’t get started on those robes, it’s gonna get real awkward real fast.”

Anakin smirked hugely and began stripping out of his black tunics. 

When they were both naked, Rex pushed aside his own discomfort at being so exposed in favor of admiring the expanse of pale skin before him. Anakin was an imposing figure when he was wrapped in black leather, but he was no less impressive without them. 

_Whoever shaped Anakin Skywalker did a damn good job._

For his part, Anakin was no less shameless about devouring Rex’s body. Rex caught his eye and smirked. “You gonna stand there all day or are you gonna touch me?”

Anakin’s eyes were nearly swallowed up by his pupils and he crossed the room in two quick strides. His hands were everywhere at once, sliding up Rex’s abdomen and across his chest, running over his shoulders and arms, dropping to his hips and lower stomach, fingers calloused from years of battle scraping lightly over skin that rarely saw the light of day. 

Rex’s eyes almost slid shut, but he forced them open in order to watch as his own hands caressed the much paler skin in front of him, tracing the hard muscles in admiration. 

When Anakin dropped his head to kiss him, Rex twisted away and pressed his lips against the spots that speckled Anakin’s chest and shoulders, provoking a sharp inhale from the Jedi.  

Apparently tired of waiting, Anakin pressed Rex up against the cold wall and wedged his thigh between the captain’s. Rex huffed out a sharp breath, grinding against the Jedi in a display of wantonness that surprised both men. Anakin’s teeth closed on Rex’s shoulder in a sharp bite before the Jedi bodily turned Rex around and walked him backward until the captain tumbled onto the narrow bunk. Anakin was on top of him in a moment, rolling his hips against the shorter man’s and shoving his tongue down Rex’s throat. The captain didn’t hesitate, but lifted his hips up, seeking the addicting friction. 

In the back of his mind, Rex thought they should be ashamed of themselves, rutting against each other like adolescents, but as Anakin’s body pressed him into the mattress, he couldn’t find it in himself to care. 

He fisted his hands in the Jedi’s tousled curls, tugging them lightly as he bit at plush lips, prompting a strangled moan and a slow, grinding roll of hips against his. Rex slid his palms up and down Anakin’s powerful back, allowing the Jedi to leave a trail of bites and licks across his collarbones. 

He could feel heat building in his stomach, spreading through his legs and up his chest. When Anakin’s thumbs scraped over his nipples, Rex’s hips jerked and he choked out a harsh sound halfway between a moan and a sob, warmth pooling between their bodies. Anakin immediately followed him over the edge, stifling his moan against Rex’s lips. 

The Jedi collapsed bonelessly on top of Rex. Anakin’s lips brushed over the freckles dusting Rex’s shoulders before tucking his head under the captain’s chin. 

“Damn,” the Jedi murmured. 

“Damn,” Rex returned, completely content as his hand spread over Anakin’s lower back. 

Anakin was quiet for a moment, then lifted his head and met Rex’s eyes. “Do you regret that?”

The question took Rex off guard and he opened his mouth to say something off-handedly, but then he recognized unfamiliar uncertainty in Anakin’s blue eyes. The captain’s mouth curled in a soft smile. “Never,” he said as he tightened his arm around Anakin’s waist. “I’ll never regret anything I do with you.” He paused, then amended his statement. “At least, not in bed.”

The sun seemed to come out from behind the clouds as Anakin’s face split in a huge, genuine grin. The Jedi put his head back down on Rex’s chest happily, and the two men basked in the comfortable silence, completely content to deal with the logistical nightmare that awaited them at a much later point. 

“I love you, you know.” Anakin’s quiet, honest statement yanked the rug out from under Rex’s feet. 

Love? Anakin loved him? A Jedi loved a clone? Was that even allowed? Not under the Jedi Code, and definitely not under the law. What could even come of this? What—

Rex cut his frantic train of thought off fiercely.  

“I love you, too.”

He didn’t know what would happen to them, or what life without fighting would look like, but he was sure of his feelings. And really, what could go wrong that they hadn’t been through already?

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer: none of these characters or settings are mine, I'm merely playing with them for fun & zero profit.


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